


A Single Happy Thought

by lazarus



Category: DCU (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter, Angst, Character Death, Hints of sexual content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-02
Updated: 2011-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-26 19:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/286969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazarus/pseuds/lazarus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I can’t think of one happy thought because all my happy thoughts involve you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Single Happy Thought

**Author's Note:**

> Tim/Kon - Harry Potter AU. For Mina~ :)

They had learned the Patronus Charm at a young age.

Tim had insisted it was a good background to have (“What other sixth years do you know that can fend off a Dementor?” he’d reasoned excitedly). Kon just groaned into his hands (“Tim, when are we _ever_ going to be attacked by a Dementor?”) and went along with it because Tim was stubborn and persistent and wouldn’t take no for an answer. In actuality, he was just excited with the idea of trying something new and challenging.

Producing a Patronus was rather advance and difficult magic, but Tim had always prided himself in succeeding where others had failed. He wasn’t called the smartest wizard of their year for nothing.

When he got like this, Kon always liked to point out he should have been sorted into Slytherin rather than in Ravenclaw.

“And you were right to be sorted into Gryffindor House,” Tim would retort, still pouring over a book. “You’re brash, headstrong—you never listen—and that’s why you always get into trouble!”

But later, Tim would reflect that those traits are what made Kon so… _Kon_. He was the best person Tim knew, the _only_ friend Tim knew who actually liked him for _him_. A kind, brave soul—he had stuck his neck out for Tim more times than Tim could keep track of. Where others had isolated and abandoned him to his books and his eager, learning mind, Kon had sought him out and was there for him in a way no one had before.

Maybe that was why it’d been so easy to fall in love with him too. Kon’s mischievous grin, the warmth of it pushing passed Tim’s walls and hitting him dead-center, through the chest, where his heart stood beating in rapid, untimely beats—it was just… too easy to fall in love. And Tim fell _hard_.

“So, the Patronous Charm,” said Kon, who’d leaned in close to see what Tim was reading; his shoulders bumped his, sending a tidal of pleasant tingles to shoot up Tim’s spine, rendering him momentarily speechless.

Noticing his silence, Kon turned to him, and they were so close Tim could see his reflection in waters of Kon’s eyes, which were bluer than anything Tim had ever seen.

“Tim?” said Kon, his voice suddenly soft, low, almost intimate. And it was all Tim could do to not shudder and lean right in, close the gap between their mouths and just let go. It would be the happiest memory Tim would have made for himself. But reality—the reality where Kon didn’t return his feelings—finally made him look away.

“Right. The Patronus Charm,” said Tim, his voice shaky and his hands trembling as he fumbled for the instructions on the page. “Right. To produce a Patronus, one must think of a happy thought whilst enunciating the incantation ‘Expecto Patronum’…”

It’d taken a while to master it, but within a couple of weeks (well, one week for Tim, but another week for Kon) they had both gotten the hang of it.

“This is pretty neat actually,” said Kon as he glided his Lion Patronus around the room, where it prowled and leaped ferociously.

“I told you it’d be handy to know,” said Tim, as he watched his Robin Patronus soar in the air, flutter about before flying towards the lion, where the two spun and swirled around each other gracefully, like two halves of a puzzle fitting together perfectly until finally disappearing into white, silver light.

When Tim turned around, to his surprise Kon was standing right in front of him, so close that the tips of their shoes touched and Tim could see himself reflected in Kon’s eyes again. Tim’s breath got caught in his throat and suddenly he could scarcely breathe enough air.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Kon was looking at him strangely, seriously; his expression soft and faraway. The longer Kon continued to stare and say nothing, the more anxious and jittery Tim got. “What? I-Is there something on my face?”

He touched a hand to his face as if to check, but Kon had stopped him; his own hand completely covering Tim’s, warming them to his palms and his fingers.

“I’ve thought of this moment,” said Kon quietly, as he intertwined their fingers together, “almost every night. Every minute of every day. Every second. It was my happy thought… even if it never happened. Until I decided to stop thinking and finally make it _real_.”

Tim’s heart was beating rapidly. “Make what real?” he said. Hope was painful in his ribs. It was illogical and impractical—everything Tim promised himself he’d never succumb to—and yet it everything Tim wanted and more.

Kon smiled briefly, the sight more brilliant and beautiful than Tim had ever seen.

“This,” he murmured before kissing Tim, his mouth soft and warm against his own; moving gently and urgently, like he could not hold back any more.

And Tim gasped and pulled Kon close, parting his lips as the kiss deepened; his fingers tight along Kon’s shoulders and the nape of his neck, tugging and pulling… never wanting this moment to ever end. Tim was brimming with so much happiness, it practically consumed him, and Kon was similar—his blue eyes shining and dazed, the grip on Tim’s waist a perfect indication he was not about to let go.

The Lion and the Robin sparked back to life from the tips of their wands, swirling in midair in a circular motion; they danced together even long after the kiss had ended.

******

“I should go with you,” said Tim as he watched Kon ruffle through the drawers for an extra pair of pants, which he promptly stuffed into a bag.

“It’ll be fine, Tim,” said Kon, as he disappeared into the bathroom. “It’s just for a couple nights. I doubt it’s anything serious. Now have you seen my wand?”

“It’s on the place you always leave it,” said Tim, a little exasperated, but was still looking anxious. “But seriously. I should come with you. Just in case.”

“Hah! There it is!” Kon said, picking up his wand, which he had placed by the clock. He went back into their room and flopped himself on the bed, where he pushed Tim back down on the pillows. “You’re not feeling well. No can do.”

“I know a potion that will fix me right up—”

“Cassie said it was better to go about it the Muggle way,” Kon pointed out, grinning. At Tim’s frown, Kon leaned in and kissed him, and despite himself, Tim melted right into it; sighing almost dreamily when Kon pulled away, his smile broader and cheekier than ever.

“You can’t keep doing that,” said Tim, trying to sound stern but failing. “Just because I can’t resist your stupid charms, it doesn’t mean you should take advantage of it when you want to have your way.”

“That’s not what you said last night,” said Kon in his ear, pressing a trail of kisses down Tim’s neck, making him incoherent and forget his train of thought. “Now here is what we’re going to do,” he said. “I’m going down to the Auror’s department. Get this stupid case all sorted out. And then I’m coming home, to you,” he emphasized this with a kiss to his cheek, “and you’re going to be naked—” Tim smothered a laugh as Kon pressed another kiss along his jawline, “—very, very naked. And did I mention _naked_?”

Tim’s laugh stuttered as Kon pressed a kiss along the edge of his ear, his breath hot and commanding another dose of distraction.

“And then I’m going to make love to you,” he whispered, his voice downright husky, and Tim shuddered and closed his eyes, already imagining Kon’s hands and his mouth on him, “all night. And we’ll wake up, have breakfast—or maybe just skip breakfast and move on to the morning sex.” His hands settled at his waist. “And then we’ll take a shower together. And then maybe spend the rest of the day in bed. Naked. Again.”

When he pulled back, Kon was smiling broadly.

“How does that sound?”

“It sounds like you’re one horny dog, Kon,” Tim said tonelessly, but he was smiling nonetheless.

Kon laughed and Tim felt it rumble against him. “I love you, you know that right?” he said, leaning his forehead against Tim’s.

Tim’s smile widened. “I know,” he said, tracing Kon’s cheek with his finger. “I love you too.”

Kon kissed him, deeply. And it was like the first time. Always like the first time.

“I’ll be back in on Sunday,” Kon murmured as he broke the kiss. He got off the bed, picked up his bag and headed for the door. “Don’t forget,” he said, by the entrance, “I expect you to be naked when I get back. I’ll hex you if I find out you’ve failed to meet these requirements.”

“I _get_ it, Kon. Naked.” Tim rolled his eyes. “Now go before Bruce has your head. You know how he’s like when you’re late.” He smiled when Kon’s face sank at the reminder and he dashed through the door, yelling out, “Crap. Gotta go! See you! Love you!” down the hall.

“See you Sunday,” said Tim before rolling over onto Kon’s side of the bed, Kon’s scent lulling him immediately to sleep.

******

Except Sunday never came. Tim figured he should have known something was amiss. That something was _wrong_. That something had _happened_.

But he didn’t think anything of it when the doorbell rang. It didn’t register to him or made him pause to wonder what Bruce of all people was doing there at their house. Why he was looking graver than usual. Why he was looking at Tim like he was about to deliver the worst news Tim was ever going to hear in his life.

“Bruce,” said Tim and looked around. Behind him stood Clark, Cassie and Bart. All of whom were looking at Tim like they knew something Tim didn’t; their expressions identical to the one Bruce was now wearing. When he looked back at Bruce, it finally clicked. “No…” Tim whispered, suddenly going very cold.

The man didn’t need to say anything for Tim to understand. It was in the man’s eyes, his face—the way he wanted to reach out to clutch Tim’s shoulder but didn’t.

“There was an accident,” Bruce said quietly. “Someone blew off the half of the building, and Kon—” he stopped, as if trying to go as slowly and gently for Tim’s sake, but Tim already knew. He could see it as plain as day.

He could see Kon running into that collapsing building without a second’s hesitation or thought, trying to save as many innocent people as he can. Because that was just how Kon was. Brash, brave and selfless to the end.

“We were in a no-apparate zone. He… he couldn’t have…” and Bruce trailed off again, as if trying to give Tim more time to adjust, but Tim was already hyperventilating, and seeing passed the words Bruce was telling him. It was like he was _there_ , seeing it all happen, watching as Kon fell to his death.

“Kon… Kon was a hero,” Bruce murmured as if this made all the difference.

But that _didn’t_ make it any better… that didn’t stop Tim from falling to his knees with Bruce kneeling right next to him; that didn’t stop Tim from screaming and crying into Bruce’s chest, desperately wishing to turn it all back—to bring Kon back.

Kon who was supposed to come home and make love to him, who was going to wake up with him in the morning and have breakfast together in their bed; Kon, who wasn’t supposed to say goodbye and _leave_ Tim alone, but did.

Tim should have gone with him. He should have been there. The guilt and the sadness both tightened and coiled painfully in his chest as the tears and the screams went on.

And the Robin he knew, went out like a light; the happiness in his heart snuffed right out.

******

He could not make a Patronus anymore since that night. Try as he might, the Robin refused to appear, almost like it’d never existed. A dull spark would burst from the tip of his wand, but Tim was greeted with emptiness and silence, much like the kind he felt inside himself.

The reminder was an empty bed and sheets, clothes that no longer smelt like sunlight, soap and home; the single toothbrush in their bathroom cupboards and the fact that Tim hadn’t seen his Robin in almost five years since Kon’s death.

Tim was surrounded by memories—happy, joyous, beautiful memories—but nothing gave him the same satisfaction, the same completion, delight and contentment, as being held and kissed by the real Kon.

“Expecto Patronum,” he’d whisper, branding his wand, and trying to hold onto the happy memory of Kon’s arms wrapped securely around him night after night before he’d fall asleep.

But, like always, the Robin remained nonexistent, and Tim was beyond the point of expecting otherwise.

******

“Maybe you should sit still for this one, Tim,” said Bruce.

Tim blinked in surprise. Bruce had never been concerned about Tim’s performance on the field before. Bruce was tough as nails, a perfectionist much like Tim himself, and he was the best in their department; the man didn’t have time for feelings of sympathy when he had dark wizards to capture and put behind bars. But the fact that Bruce was giving him the special treatment just made Tim all the more adamant to go.

“I’m fine,” said Tim flatly. Just because they were at the same abandoned rubble where Kon had died, it didn’t mean Tim couldn’t act professionally. “What do you want us to do?”

Bruce noted the unsubtly in which he changed the subject with grace and quiet understanding.

“A man by the name of Jonathan Crane is selling dark magical artifacts in the black market. We’re to stun and apprehend— _only_ to stun and apprehend, mind you. We need him back for interrogation,” he said to the rest of them, and then scowled. “Make it fast too because the Ministry has it in their heads that we need Dementors on this heist.”

Dementors, Tim thought, his heart sinking.

He’d paid a visit to Azkaban once—for an inquiry. It was unpleasant. The Dementors unnerved him, and gave him a horrible, unhelpful feeling; there was a twinge of despair, of lost and anxiety that Tim had never experienced before. But that had been when he was still able to produce a Patronus, when his Robin would settle at his shoulder and remind him of Kon—the happiest memory Tim had.

But now… Now, Tim couldn’t think of Kon without remembering the rest, without remembering why he couldn’t couldn’t make a Patronus anymore. And now they were at the very same place he’d died.

Perhaps that was another reason why Bruce had wanted him to sit out or why he elected they apprehend the suspect before the Dementors arrived.

He knew Bruce was looking at him, calculating and assessing his every move and expression like the Auror that he was. And Tim was suddenly overcome with an irrational urge to prove Bruce wrong.

“Let’s go,” he said, walking ahead.

******

They’d split into two’s; each pair taking a section of the broken building. Tim was partnered up with Bart, who was capable in his own way and quite the intellectual for someone who looked like he had the attention span of a sparrow. He did have one problem though, and it was how much Bart liked to _fidget_. It was as if someone had spiked his butterbeer with a hyperactive toffee. It was making Tim anxious.

“Would you calm down?” Tim said between this teeth. “You’re going to give us away if you keep moving about like that.”

But before Bart could say anything, Tim spotted a shadow move up ahead.

“There! Let’s go!” he said and tore off in the direction where the figure had moved, Bart following closely behind him. “Crane!” Tim shouted, but Crane had already disappeared down the next corridor. In his wand, he shouted, “Bruce, we’ve spotted him! Get everybody to head for the far east-side of the building!”

When he saw Crane again, Tim pointed out his wand.

“Petrificus Totalus!”

“Protego!” Crane shouted and the spell bounced off him. “Reducto!” he shouted soon after, and Tim quickly shoved Bart into a corner as a jet of red light shot in his direction; a great chunk of the wall blasted off, sending the both of them flying back, rubble and dirt raining over them.

Bart was up on his feet again and sending another spell, which hit Crane firmly on the shoulder, knocking him flat on his back—just a few ways from another entrance point, which lead into the forest.

Tim followed after Bart, who shouted, “Expelliarmus!” when Crane tried to fire another spell. His wand flew right into Bart’s open hand.

Tim flourished his wand and Crane was tied in chains.

“Well, that was easy,” Bart said, grinning at Tim.

“Bruce, we have him,” Tim said into his wand. “We’ll meet you and the rest of the team back at the rendez-vous—” but he was immediately cut off when there was another unexpected rumble.

The building was shaking again and rubble was falling in great chunks from the ceiling.

“Watch out!” Tim shouted and shot out his wand, sending Bart and Crane flying deep within the building before the rocks could crush them. Tim jumped out the entrance as debris continued to fall, completely barricading his only way back into the building.

“Tim! Tim, are you okay?” he heard Bart’s muffled voice.

“I’m fine!” said Tim. “Are you alright? What about Crane?”

“We’re okay,” said Bart, whom Tim could scarcely hear.

“Don’t use any firing spells,” Tim instantly warned. “We don’t want the building to come down again.”

“What about you?” said Bart. “We’re in a no-apparate zone.”

“It’s fine,” Tim said. “I’ll just find another way…” he paused when he heard something buzzing in the distance, like the thousand wings of a swarm of angry bees. It hummed loudly in Tim’s ears, drawing closer.

“What the heck is that sound?” Bart demanded.

Tim turned around and glanced at the sky, where a wide, black cloud was zeroing in on their location. Tim felt it before he even saw it; the hair on the back of his neck stood on ends, the air felt poisonous and damp, and the cold, dark, irrepressible empty feeling in his heart expanded until it was almost unbearable. In the back of his head, he could hear Kon, loudly, clearly, shouting his name.

“Dementors,” he whispered faintly.

******

“Don’t be a goddamn idiot. I’m not leaving you,” said Bart furiously. “You can’t even make a Patronus—”

“Get out of here, Bart,” Tim said.

“Are you stupid? How can you even fend them off?” Bart shouted, sounding angry. When Tim didn’t reply, Bart said, “You… don’t want to. Is that it? You want to die—”

“Bart, I am giving you an order!” Tim snapped. “I’ll meet you at the rendez-vous point, now go!”

There was silence on the other end for a moment before Bart spoke, evenly, “I know you miss him, Tim. Hell, I miss him too. But Kon wouldn’t have wanted it to be this way!”

Tim almost flinched at the name. But Bart was right. As much as Tim hated to admit it, Bart was right. If Kon had been here… he would have been very angry with Tim.

 _“You’re supposed to be the smart one, Tim. Don’t do anything stupid!”_ he would have said.

Tim took a deep breath. “I’ll meet you at the rendez-vous, okay?” he said calmly. “I’ll be there… I promise.”

“You better,” Bart warned before he was gone, leaving Tim alone.

Tim took another deep breath and looked at the sky, where the figures were getting closer. He took out his wand and held it high in the air, waiting, as the Dementors drew closer.

They circled him, taking away another bit of the remaining happiness he had. He thought of Kon, of his smile. He tried to hold onto that as the coldness and the darkness pushed around him, almost suffocating him.

“Expecto Patronum,” he said, but his Robin would not appear. He thought of stolen moments in the dark, quiet corridors of Hogwarts; of Kon’s mouth moving urgently against his, warming him like no heating spell ever would.

“Expecto Patronum,” he said again, this time louder. Nothing happened.

The Dementors crept closer until Tim could a little below their cloaks; something unliving and foul, making Tim’s soul tremble, as if unwillingly drawn to it.

He shut his eyes, remembering walks by the lake, Kon’s voice and the look on his face when he first told Tim that he loved him.

“Expecto Patronum!” he said, shouting. He was starting to shake; his vision growing blurry as despair and anguish were tearing Tim’s heart apart, making him remember the first few weeks he spent alone on the bed he and Kon shared, crying and pleading for Kon to come back, knowing he never will.

“Expecto Patronum! Expecto Patronum!” Tim screamed, clinging onto the memory of Kon’s eyes, his face, the way he moved and touched and marked Tim’s body; the way it felt when they made love—the security and the happiness, so overwhelming Tim was near bursting.

 _“I love you, Tim…”_

 _(“You’re never coming back…”)_

 _“I want to be with you…for the rest of my life, I just want you by my side…”_

 _(“But you’re gone… you left me.”)_

 _“You’re my happy memory. You’re my happy thought.”_

 _(“I can’t think of one happy thought because all my happy thoughts involve you.”)_

 _“It was my happy thought… even if it never happened.”_

 _(“Come back, please.”)_

 _“I was never gone, Tim. I’m here. I’m always here.”_

Tim’s eyes flew open. With the last of his strength, he pointed his wand in the air and shouted, “Expecto Patronum!”

A sudden, brilliant flash of light erupted from the tip of his wand, swallowing up the darkness. The Dementors were pushed back by a large shape, which prowled and leaped in the air, creating a protective circle around Tim. The light was too bright that it immediately repelled any Dementor that tried to get inside until the light in Tim’s wand expanded and exploded, nearly blinding Tim into oblivion.

When Tim opened his eyes, the Dementors were gone and Tim was on the ground—the night sky clear and the forest quiet. The light at the tip of his wand glowed anew, only tamer and more focused: something was padding across the surface of the water, coming closer, and Tim thought the shape looked familiar. Giant paws, a thick mane and fierce silver eyes; it wasn’t his Robin that had returned, it was the Lion.

Kon’s Lion.

It stopped in front of Tim, who could not believe his eyes. He felt a rush of something inexplicable deep within his chest, threatening to overwhelm him. It was a feeling he hadn’t thought he was capable of any more, a feeling he thought had been wiped cleaned from his being: happiness.

“Kon,” he whispered, reaching out for the Lion, who merely bowed its head and touched the edge of Tim’s palm with the tip of its nose. It was enough to bring tears into Tim’s eyes.

Tim slipped back into unconsciousness as the Lion disappeared in a burst of silver light, but Tim knew, it wouldn’t be the last he saw of Kon.

******

When Tim woke up, he was in the hospital wing, back in their Department, and Bruce was sitting next to him, poised and quiet, but looking worse for wear than usual.

“Bruce,” he said.

“Tim,” he said and Tim knew he was resisting the urge to lecture him. Instead he said, “What were you _thinking_?”

“I’m alright,” said Tim, sitting up on the bed. He found that his wand was still in his hand.

Bruce took a deep breath. “Dementors, Tim,” he said. “When we found you, I thought maybe they’d performed the Kiss on you.”

“They didn’t. I said I’m fine,” said Tim and smiled down at his wand. “Kon helped me.”

“Kon?” said Bruce sharply. Then much more gently—a tone Tim hadn’t heard since the day he showed up to Tim’s house and told him Kon wasn’t ever coming back—he said, “Tim, Kon is… Kon’s not…”

“I know,” said Tim quietly. “But he’s _not_ gone. He’s here.” He lifted his wand and murmured, “Expecto Patronum…”

A Lion shot forth from the tip, bounded across the room before settling quietly at Tim’s side. Tim looked at the Lion in the eyes and was reminded of Kon. The Patronus disappeared in a glitter of silver and light.

“You see, he’s here,” Tim said again, touching the spot where his heart was beating. “He never left.”

“Oh, Tim,” said Bruce finally. “After all this time?”

Tim smiled, and felt it in his whole being.

“Always.”


End file.
